The Count of Monte Cristo,
by Alexandre Dumas
Nook Book copy, originally published 1845
A few weeks late, but here it finally is: my epic rant (could be a lot worse) on the epic word count that is The Count of Monte Cristo:
Once upon a time, in ye olde
Napoleonic France, there was a young sailor named Edmund Dantes. Everything was turning up Edmund: his hawt girlfriend Mercedes said she’d
marry him with two days notice, he was earning enough to take cake of his pop,
and he was up for a big promotion to be captain on his boat. But poor, silly Captain Oblivious, with
his one-track mind (did I mention Mercedes was hawt?) failed to see that he was
making a lot of dudes jealous. Dudes
like Mercedes’ cousin Ferdinand, who creepily wants a piece, and Danglars
(Danglers in my reading), who can’t stand that a teenage boy is more successful
than him. Conspiring with
Edmunds drunk tailor neighbor Caderousse, Danglers proves how low he dangles
when he more or less manipulates Ferdinand into mailing an anonymous letter
stating that Edmund was making nice with Napoleon (currently locked away on an
island – kind of a theme in this book/French history).
Since the monarchists hate Napoleon
and his crazy expansionist ideas, Edmund is arrested at his rehearsal dinner or
something like it, and continues to have crappy luck: his judge?
Villefort. Like Danglers,
his name kind of tells us that he’s vile.
Villefort is an unabashed social climber who has daddy issues and has
taken another family name so as not to be associated with his Napoleon
supporting daddy, Noirtier. Which
means when he reads the “evidence” against Edmund, he freaks the eff out
because he’s afraid it’ll link him to his daddy. So he a) tricks Edmund’s boss into creating false evidence
that winds up being used to indict Edmund, and then b) he locks up Edmund in a crappy
18th century prison on an island in the harbor and throws away the
key. You know, as you do.
So now that we know the system is corrupt, Captain Obvious
(Edmund) is locked away to rot in solitary for years and years and years. Thus commences about 400 pages of
quivering, gnashing of teeth, moaning, etc. You know, being pissed you’re in prison. He does the usual stuff, like try to
kill himself, and then after like five or so years of this decides to plan his
revenge. About this time he
realizes he can totally hear his wallmate up to something. Turns out this something is building a
series of secret tunnels. You
know, as you do in a prison escape plot.
Edmund and his new buddy, the Abbe, make friends; the Abbe teaches
Edmund like six languages and explains to him what anyone else would have
picked up on: Edmund got thrown under the bus. Poor, silly Edmund.
Luckily, when he gets angry, he gets smart. The Abbe is assumed to be crazy because he claims to have a
billion and five dollars in like, Roman coins hidden somewhere. Edmund, being Edmund, is the only one
to believe him, but only after there are lots of long speeches about how they
are now besties and like father and son, and oh, I will adopt you and make you
my heir with my words. So then the
Abbe gets sick and dies. Edmund
finally shows a glimmer of individual intelligence and switches places with his
body to escape.
And we’re still only at page 200 of 1186! Thus begins the long haul towards the
setting sun (aka REVENGE). So then
for like the next 600 pages, we hear a lot of description about sailboats, and
Edmund finds out about all the horrible things that have happened to the good
people (his dad got starved to death, his noble boss is going bankrupt, and his
hawt ladyfriend had to marry her cousin, gross), while the bad people who threw
him under the yacht are prospering.
Oh, and also he finds the billion dollar fortune and changes his name to
the Count of Monte Cristo. So then
there’s a lot of set up in Rome, etc., and we learn about other people seeking
revenge tied into the bad things our bad friends have done, and how CMC is
going to help them while helping himself to a big bowl of revenge soup,
etc. Suddenly we are all in gay
Paris and the revenge starts.
Slowly. This goes on
for…like most of the rest of the book.
Somehow, only one person recognizes the CMC as Edmund, which I find
dubious. Sure it’s been
a while. But…really? I’m already
getting tired of rehashing it; it’s all very complicated. Favored methods of revenge in this book
include poison, murder, financial ruin, and disgrace via truth telling.
There is a whole secondary set of
characters introduced in gay Paris, all of whom are part of the new lives of
the bad guys. We meet Madame
Danglars, who is totally a cougar and cheating on her husband (but they kind of
hate each other…?), and their daughter Eugenie, who aspires to be an opera
singer, but maybe just has a big Sapphic crush on her musical instructor
(unclear, but this is my suspicion).
She’s engaged to Albert, who happens to be the son of Mercedes and
Ferdinand, who is now the Count Morcref.
Albert is surprisingly decent, despite his inbreeding. Mercedes is still hawt; Ferdinand is
still a dick. Then at the
Villefort manse, we meet Madame Villefort the second (first one died in
childbirth and was apparently a saint).
Madame Deux is a big fan of poisons, and also of being a helicopter mom
to her somewhat monstrous young son.
Valentine is Villefort’s daughter, who is engaged to another guy who’s
dad was murdered for being a big old monarchist, but she’s really truly madly
deeply hawt for Maximilian Morrel, CMC’s old boss’ son. Noirtier is still alive, but has had a
massive stroke and is totally paralyzed, except for his eyeballs, so he sees
all and hears all, but has to like, blink to communicate. Such a 19th century gimmick.
Other things happen and other characters are involved too – por
ejemplo, Villefort has a secret evil son, and the CMC has “adopted” a young
Greek girl named Haidee – but there’s already SO many, so I’m cutting you off. And by adopted, I mean purchased,
because there are slaves in this book who according to Dumas, want to stay
slaves. Now, from my spotty
understanding of French legalese in the 1830’s, slavery was abolished, and if
you were a slave who arrived in France, you were automatically freed…SO. My jaw actually dropped when I read
this:
‘Ali has many
fauls mixed with most excellent qualities. He cannot possibly serve you as a pattern for your conduct,
no being, as you are, a paid servant, but a mere slave – a dog, who, should he
fail in his duty towards me, I should not disaharge from my service, but kill.’
Baptistin opened his eye with astonishment.
‘You seem
incredulous,’ said Monte Cristo, who repeated to Ali in the Arabic language
what he had just ben saying to Baptistin in French. The Nubian smiled assentingly to his master’s words, then
kneeling on one knee, respectfully kissed the hand of the count This corroboration of the lesson he had
just received put the finishing stroke to the wonder and stupefaction of M.
Baptistin.” (p. 507)
What is WRONG with you, Dumas? This passage is so messed up! Were you hanging out with our
Confederate friends? Using this
logic, of course CMC falls in love with Haidee at the end.
Suffice it to say I won’t ramble much more about this, I
think Dumas did enough for the both of us. All the plot lines are twisted together, but do wind up
making sense, even if I periodically stopped caring (but luckily it switches
between different characters, which I guess keeps it fresh). But seriously, were there like 6 people
in 1830’s France? How do they all
know each other? Just know that
this book is wicked long. There
are lots of eye-roll inducing moments, weird subplots that somehow tie in, a
lot of moments where people are talking about making their toilet (oh come on,
it’s funny), ridiculous and preposterous claims about Edmund/CMC always being
pasty and seeing in the dark (he’s totally a vampire).
I could say a lot more about themes
of satisfaction and revenge, and personal growth, and the redemption of
forgiveness, etc. that come about in this book, BUT I WON’T. This isn’t an English paper! If you were to, say, make this into a
drinking game and drink anytime someone trembles, I’m fairly certain you would
not survive. So don’t do
that. And only read this book when
you have a lot of time on your hands, because you will need it. In short, I did not hate the story (I
rather liked it), but I did hate reading it! I know you’ve been dead for a long time, Alexandre Dumas,
but next time use an editor and shave off about 700 pages, mmkay?
A few favorite quotations:
- For Baxter/Peck/Em: “Why, for heaven’s sake, are your eyes like cats’, that you can see in the dark?” (p. 147)
- “If Renee could see me, I hope she would be satisfied, and would no longer call me a decapitator.” (p. 66) Whatchu talking ‘bout, Villefort? Being called a decapitator is something I aspire to!
- “I should have taken four reefs in the topsails and furled the spanker.” (p. 272) That’s what she said.
- “The appetite grows by what it feeds on.” (p. 873) Which probably explains why I’m totally digging ABC’s Revenge. How is that show not on the CW?
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